


loving you (our hotel room)

by melstar



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Time Skip, akaashi's love letter to bokuto, excessive metaphors, retrospection, so many metaphors im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25931077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melstar/pseuds/melstar
Summary: Keiji reflects on his relationship with Koutarou through careful prose and a gentle fantasy.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	loving you (our hotel room)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to Driving to Hawaii by Summer Salt and various Keaton Henson songs, so if you want to put some of those on it'll definitely set the mood for this! This fic is pure brainrot and I really have no idea what's going on, but here we are.

Loving you is like the morning. Loving you is like waking up in a hotel room halfway across the world and standing out on the balcony watching the sun rise. I feel your touch as though the sunlight were wrapping itself around my body, running over my skin and warming my heart. I drink it in, tasting your fingers on my tongue, wishing your hands could reach inside and grasp my soul. I’d let them.

You and me, darling, in that hotel room, golden light painting us priceless and beautiful. My chest would hurt, but that’s okay. Because I know you’ll be there when it bursts, ready to pick up all my pieces and put me back together. You’ll hold me and I’ll be a masterpiece shaped by your hands.

Loving you is like a waterfall, ethereal and in constant motion. Your kisses are the gushing water, hitting the rocks of my mouth with stunning tenderness. Much like water, you are unpredictable. Like the swirling tides of the ocean your love can be gentle, coming and going, but never quite leaving. And other times, the weight of your affection is unbearable, a hurricane come tearing through my heart and leaving it ravaged and overflowing.

When I first started falling for you, my attraction felt like a maze of vines. I was lost in those twisting plants, could feel them reaching for my throat, stopping my breath. At times it felt like I could never escape the jungle, that I would be trapped forever, at the mercy of whatever beasts hunted me. But then I would look up and I’d see your face through the vines, and everything would be okay. I was reminded that you were close, and I just needed to cut my way through to finally find you.

Our first date was to an aquarium. I’m sure you remember it. You were obsessed with the dolphins, and scared of the lionfish. We spent hours there, walking through the exhibits, washed in the blue light that makes you feel like you’re really at the bottom of the ocean. You talked to an employee about seahorses for half an hour. We ate soft pretzels on a bench by the manatees. I kissed you twice in the corner of the sea lion enclosure. We were blue, but so far from sad.

Loving you then was so easy, as easy as breathing or writing or watching the rain roll down a window. We were young, and all we cared about was each other. Loving you still is even easier. Now we are free from the chains of our childhood, released into the world, unstoppable. If I could, I would love you in every aquarium in every country on every continent.

Our hotel room across the world is our own temporary palace. The balcony is the tallest tower, looking down at our kingdom. The plants hanging by the window are chandeliers. Instead of the musty, worn brown carpet, a rug of deep scarlet etched with gold thread stretches across the floor. Our queen bed is draped with silk, an oasis of sheets amidst beige walls. Our meals of instant noodles and eggs bought from the convenience store down the street are royal feasts. We are kings.

Loving you is electric, but not dangerous. Every touch feels like lightning bolts buzzing against my skin. Static hangs in the air around us, blurring my vision but never dulling my pleasure. Kissing you is like a thunderstorm, and what comes after. The explosion of the storm, the comedown, and the lingering misty rain that fills my lungs with thick, delicious oxygen.

Sometimes I wonder how I managed to do it. Get you to love me back, that is. Back then you seemed untouchable. You were popular, you were talkative, you were friends with everyone. You were the ace. And then it seemed like you chose me over all of that. You always came to eat lunch with me, even though I was in the year below. You wanted me to set for you, even when I wasn’t the team’s starter. We started walking home together. We hung out together. I loved you then, quietly and intensely. I never planned on telling you.

It felt like I hadn’t done anything to make you love me. You came naturally, again and again, until I began to think you fell too. Your confession was messy, under the harsh lights outside the gym, but it was endearing, and I remember smiling so hard my jaw hurt.

Loving you is like lying in bed. My mind hazy from sleep and comfort, my body wrapped in the blankets that are your arms. The weight of the sheets and the sound of your breathing. Hot tea spilling down the cracks in my ribs, heat filling the spaces of my body you can’t quite reach.

You and me halfway across the world, returning to our hotel room late at night. Coming home. Your hair is wet and full of sand. Your laugh sounds like the ocean. Your hand in mine is an anchor, keeping me tethered to your heart and your soul, and I don’t ever want to let go. In the dark palace we meet again, and you pull me in, fill me up. You take me to see the stars, open up whole galaxies for us to revel in. It’s early morning before we finally fall asleep.

Loving you is my favorite thing to do. Calling you on a break at work never fails to brighten my mood. I look forward most to watching your games and cheering you on. Coming home to you, stepping into your waiting embrace, letting you pull me down onto our couch. Everything about you, about us, is perfect. Your life is my life’s best part.

Looking back on all this, I can only smile. You’re next to me right now, as I’m thinking about us. You’re asleep, so I don’t have to worry about you looking over and seeing right through my mind, reading this metaphorical letter I’ve written in my head. How lucky I am to have met you, to have fallen in love with you, to have you fall for me too. Who would I be right now, if not for you? I can’t imagine it.

I can’t tell you how happy you make me. I can’t find the right words. It’s as if the gods sent me an angel at fifteen, to watch over me and guide me. Or maybe you’re like a tidal wave, and I am a coastal cliff. You beat against me, over and over, how we clash in graceful meetings, and you shape me into something beautiful.

Our future is yet to come, but I know it will be exactly like our past, and our present. It will be victorious, compassionate, and glamorous. Perhaps the only thing that will change will be the new existence of a gold band around each of our ring fingers.

Even though our hotel room across the world isn’t real, our love is. And loving you feels like that—a hotel room across the world, a palace bathed in golden sunlight, our own slice of heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> My [twitter](https://twitter.com/bokutovbc)! Come yell at me :)


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